


Rising Waters

by gayalondiel



Series: watsons_woes July 2011 challenge [32]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayalondiel/pseuds/gayalondiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watsons_woes amnesty prompts: Sherlock and John flee the pool and Moriarty, but the waters are rising around them nonetheless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Comes the Flood

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Holmes characters fall in the public domain: This version falls under the creative control of Messers Moffatt and Gatiss, and the BBC. No ownership is implied or inferred. This is done for love only.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John watches the waters rising over London as he dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 8: Natural disaster and its consequences.

The rain fell hard on Baker Street, and the television brought news of the Thames flooding, rising, cold grey waters taking over central London and washing out to cover the city. The tube ground to a halt, taxis emptied of their panicking drivers as torrents swept them away and overturned them one atop the other.

John watched from the upstairs window. It was absurd, could not be true. He was sure he was dreaming and fairly certain he had had this dream before. And yet there was a hard knot of fear in his gut and an image in his mind of Sherlock in the water, falling, drowning. Hands, not John’s, dragging him from the water, his skin pale and blue, dark curls clinging to his forehead. The image was clear before him in the falling rain and John reached out to touch it, disrupt it, anything to shake the picture from his mind...

He jerked awake. Sherlock was sitting across from him, watching Jeremy Kyle and complaining about the need for DNA tests when it was obvious to any idiot which of the subjects were related. John took a deep breath to calm himself from his strange, absurd dream, and wondered about going out.

He needed to get away, clear his head. Maybe visiting Sarah would be for the best.


	2. Part 1: Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock does as he’s told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 3: Pivotal plot point.

“Run, Sherlock!”

Sherlock locked eyes with John over Moriarty’s face, still smirking through the headlock. There was no time to communicate, to understand, and yet he saw John’s plan, still half formed, and his eyes spoke understanding in return.

Before Moriarty could issue further taunts or instructions to his henchmen, Sherlock turned and ran, as fast as he could. He heard shots ring out and knew they were following, and heard an outraged shout as Moriarty was struck with an expert blow.

Then came another shot, louder, closer, too close, and before he fell he heard John shouting his name.


	3. Part 2: In Case of Emergency Please Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft receives a rude awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 1: Opening line

Mr. Mycroft Holmes was not appreciative of being roused from his slumber a full three and one-half minutes prior to his customary seven o'clock. However, the mobile telephone in his locked bedside drawer was ringing in a high and insistent tone.

Only two people had that telephone number: Dr. John Watson and D.I. Greg Lestrade. It could only mean one thing.

Mycroft undid the chain around his neck and unlocked the drawer swiftly with the key hanging from it. He withdrew the ringing phone with with sure and certain movements, switching it to speakerphone immediately.

“Where is he?”


	4. Part 3: Efficient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John flee the pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 5: Actions speak louder than words.

Sherlock felt a cold wave wash over him and thought he had fallen in the pool for a few seconds, but when he opened his eyes there was only a smarting wound on his leg, and John was shielding him against a wall. He had snatched up the gun and was aiming shots towards the high vantage points around the pool.

Sherlock glanced over to where Moriarty lay on the floor, blood streaming from his face. They had imagined and begun a series of call and response, taunts and verbal sparring that could have gone for hours.

John had taken the more immediate route and broken Moriarty’s nose, knocking him unconscious while the snipers followed Sherlock.

Efficient.

“Are you alright?” John gasped around gunfire. Sherlock nodded.

“It’s a graze, that’s all. I can run on it.”

“Good, we need to go. I’m almost out of rounds here.”

Sherlock pushed himself up, pressing to the cold tiled wall, and tested his leg. “Ready when you are,” he said grimly.

John gripped his arm and together they ran from the pool. The sense of floating, struggling through water and drowning in chlorine and cold followed Sherlock but still they ran. The night swallowed them, fresh air and bright stars, leaving Moriarty, the snipers and the idea of waves breaking over them all behind.


	5. Part 4: Secure Communications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Lestrade maintain a dialogue at the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 4: Epistolary fic, post it note style.

Leave messages here. Telephones insecure until bomber recovered. MH.

Post its on a bedside table are secure? GL

Room secure. Progress report? MH

I’m sure you know. Shouldn’t you be focusing on your brother and his best friend? They’re lying here half dead and you can’t stay long enough to talk to the doctors and find out how they are. Are you even making any headway bringing this guy in? Are you deliberately avoiding everyone? GL

Impressively small writing. Investigation ongoing. Progress? MH

Outlook poor. Stay and talk to your brother, for God’s sake. Might not get another chance. GL


	6. Part 5: Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John hide, and wait, and Sherlock begins to notice things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 2: Railway, white, snake, jump, sandwich.

They hid in an old railway tunnel, the jump down from the high wall jarring Sherlock’s leg. John left him there briefly, returning a little while later with coffee and a sandwich that he pressed into Sherlock’s hands. He wrapped a crisp white dressing and bandage efficiently around Sherlock’s leg, over the sluggishly bleeding graze.

Sherlock tried to eat but the food was like cardboard. The coffee was cold and tasted inexplicably of chlorine.

“What’s going on?” he asked John.

“We’re hiding out from Moriarty’s henchmen,” he replied without meeting his eyes. “I’m sure Mycroft can take them all out, he’s probably got the ones at the pool already. With Moriarty unconscious to direct them they seemed a bit useless, although decent shots. We just need to hold out for a bit.”

There was a low roar in Sherlock’s ears and he shook his head briskly, but it did not dissipate. The bandage on his leg dripped with water, although they were perfectly dry sheltered under the bricks. John settled beside him and Sherlock felt more than saw his arm snake around his back and hold him close.

Sherlock reached out a hand and touched John’s skin. It was cold, clammy, slightly rubbery and unnatural.

“You...” He swallowed through his words, not wanting to comprehend the consequences. “Your lips are blue.”


	7. Part 6: Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John take comfort back at the flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 6: H/C/Schmoop.
> 
> Disclaimer: Credit for the last line goes to Vaughan Sivell.

John was at the window, looking out.

Sherlock was by the fire, the bandage on his leg dry. He couldn’t remember leaving the tunnel, but at least he was warm.

“Come here,” he said. John glanced over.

“The flood has reached Baker Street,” he said. “It won’t be long.”

“I know,” replied Sherlock. “Come here, I made tea.” He picked up the teapot from the hearth and poured two cups, added milk, sugar, and passed one to John as he sat beside him, their shoulders brushing. John had pulled the blanket from his chair as he passed and now wrapped it around both of them, huddling near for comfort.

“It won’t be long,” John repeated. Sherlock dug around behind them. He found the bag of marshmallows and skewered one, passing it to John, who grinned and thrust it into the edge of the flames. “Thanks,” he said.

For a long time they sat in the flicker-light, toasting marshmallows, drinking tea, enjoying one another’s company in silence. When the waters lapped at the door of the flat Sherlock turned to John.

“Are you frightened?” he asked.

John considered. “Yes,” he replied. “But... it’s a relief, you know? Such a bloody relief.”


	8. Part 7: Dust and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestrade and Mrs Hudson find a final resting place for the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 7: Playing in another sandbox: This fic is shamelessly stolen from the final epilogue to irisbleufic’s I Meet You There And We Go.

The beachcombers and rock-poolers stopped to watch as the man and the old lady picked over the pebbles to the water’s edge. Each clutched a canister and they stood in silence for a long minute before holding them out, shaking them in the wind so that the dust contained in each caught on the wind, mixing and twisting before them, catching the salt breeze and whipping out over the water. The man wrapped an arm around the lady and held her in silence as the particles danced through the mist and were lost over the waves.

A young woman turned away, a lump in her throat and a perfect white pebble forgotten in her hand. She saw a tall man on the road, clutching an umbrella, his head bowed in respect for the departed. He turned back to his car and disappeared inside before the two people at the water’s edge could see him.

Beyond him, another dark figure watched on the horizon, his hand raised in a jaunty wave. The woman looked to the sea for a second. The woman was now holding the man as he shook with sobs.

When she glanced back, the dark man was gone.


	9. Part 8: Strode the Two Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little while after Sherlock and John die a new entry appears on John’s blog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 9: Rhyme.
> 
> Serious apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Also to William Goldman.

**The Blog of John H. Watson**

Snipers to the right of them,  
Snipers to the left of them,  
Bombs bound in front of them,  
Silence round the pool.

Boldly they quipped, and well,  
Targeted with sniper shell.  
Into the jaws of Death,  
Into the mouth of Hell,  
Strode the two Fools.

 **Comment:** G Lestrade: Who the hell is this. Let them be.

 **Comment:** Guest: I’m just expressing myself. They impressed me.

 **Comment:** G Lestrade: If I find out this is someone on my team your life won’t be worth living. I mean it.

 **Comment:** Guest: Anybody want a peanut?


	10. Epilogue: Married Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Hudson clears 221B for the new tenants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amnesty Prompt 10: Alpha/Omega.

The violin and the cane were the last things to go. She had kept them for months, long after clearing out everything else, but now needs must. Cleaning had been somewhat traumatic what with the severed head rotting in the fridge and the dust that had gathered long before Sherlock and John were fished, bleeding, dying, from the pool.

The violin she had kept on the sofa where Sherlock had left it, cleaning around it until the last minute. The cane she had picked up in a moment of distraction from behind the door and then placed reverently in John’s chair, when he had once used it to strike himself and shouted a curse at his infirmity.

What would she not have given to hear that aggravated shout, the tell of a limp after a long night, the tuneless scratching of a violin at three o’clock in the morning. But the days turned, then weeks and months, and finally the flat was let. She collected the items and withdrew them to her own rooms, unwilling to let them go.

She left the room bare for her own married ones, Seb and Jim, to begin their new life at Baker Street.


End file.
